Belle Ile
Tillymint.fortescue
Thu 6 Aug 2009 07:39
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Wednesday 5 August - our little stop-over on
Belle Ile is drawing to an end, It's been a busy couple of days; yesterday
we met up with our friend, Sandrine, who has
a home on the island, and we were treated to a whistle-stop tour
of the main town, Le Palais and the beautiful and
dramatic coastline (and a quick detour via a goat farm to catch
milking time). I'd really love to show you some photos of our tour of Belle
Ile in all its splendour alas it tipped with rain all afternoon and the pictures
came out varying shades of grey. Trust me though it is an island that lives up
to its name and we had a brief opportunity to see it though sunglasses the next
day when the sun came out for a few hours before setting magnificently; one of
those evenings that boats and open horizons were invented for!
We also had a visit from our lovely boat builders
who popped over from the UK to make good a few bits & bobs that needed
fixing. It was an epic journey for them for not only had we managed to moor up
miles away from an airport, we were also a ferry ride off the mainland. Our next
challenge could be to pick up a batch of spare parts from via a parachute
drop from a passing Hercules somewhere over the Bay of Biscay, piece of cake
eh?
Because it was an extremely calm evening and by way
of ticking off another "first" aboard Tilly Mint, Alex climbed the mast. The
excuse - to fit some natty little covers for the ends of the spreaders
(the horizontal bits that stick out from the mast) so that they don't snag the
sails and to retrieve the yacht club burgee we were flying from the top of
the mast as it has managed to crochet itself into the wind vane. (Apologies for
the ensuing poor etiquette but we need the wind vane more than the Burgee). We
coped fine with the task of hoisting the skipper 30m up the mast, I (wo)manned
the winch, Hugo was on standby with the clutch to clamp the line in case the
winching failed (remember my track record with winches...), Laurence acted as
message relayer from the deck and Immy ate bread and honey. The only thing we
hadn't allowed for was the curious onlookers who decided they'd whizz around
Tilly Mint in their roary RIBS. We never did quite work out the best French
phrase for " Back off you plonker, the wake is making the boat rock".
I could tell you another real funny thing that
happened on Belle Ile - no I won't - oh go on then I will. I got punched for the
first time in my life - a proper Tom & Jerry birds and stars halo round the
head experience. Before you all fret that I am a victim of some terrible
dockside crime, worry not, it was a freak boating accident in the purest sense
of the phrase. Anyone familiar with outboard engines (or petrol lawnmowers) will
find the scenario easy to imagine. We were piling into the dinghy after saying
our final farewells to Sandrine. I was busy waving, counting children and
watching my feet as I clambered aboard. Alex was busy (looking the other
way) doing battle with our slightly high maintenance outboard which
requires a very manly and long armed yank on the starter cord to get it going.
Are you getting the picture? It was a synchronized manoevre that would have
passed muster on Strictly Come Dancing; husband's clenched fist
met wife's upper cheekbone. And do you know the worst thing, my Fendi
sunglasses fell off the top of my head, and despite Laurence's quick thinking
efforts to grab for them; we watched them twirl glamorously to the bottom of the
harbour. It one thing getting a black eye but something all together again
if I can't hide it behind big sunglasses!
There is a happy ending to the tale though. I
didn't get a black eye and my face and sense of humour are fully recovered.
We have talked in a calm and reasoned fashion about how we need a procedure
for the safe starting and boarding of the dinghy, as it is not the done thing to
deck the crew. Best of all, I got my sunglasses back. Alex went back
over to the harbour at low tide and, under the bemused glare of local children
doing a spot of crab fishing, announced "Je cherche les lunnettes de ma femme"
to explain his slightly eccentric activities.
Quite enough excitement for one island I think,
time to move onto our next. Tomorrow we head for Ile d'Yeu, another 60
miles south into Biscay and our last stop before launching headlong into the
wide blue yonder towards Spain.
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